


How To Help The Royal Cook

by SecondStarfall (beantiger)



Series: The Second Starfall Stories [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Advice, Angst with a Happy Ending, Books, Castles, Fantasy, Flash Fic, Found Families, Gen, Male Friendship, Medieval, Microfic, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Queer Elders, Queer History, Royalty, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transitioning, Unexpected Friendship, ftm character, misgendering (unintentional), supportive friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22076626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beantiger/pseuds/SecondStarfall
Summary: "My Lord, would I be handsome?" asked the cook, pressing his palms to his eyes.***A royal cook in the midst of transition asks for help from an unusual source—a tulip-farmer.
Series: The Second Starfall Stories [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582975
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	How To Help The Royal Cook

**Author's Note:**

> This is a version of the original Twitterfic, same title, posted over at my now-deactivated personal account in December 2019. It has been given minor edits for consistency with other stories and readability on AO3. ❤️ 
> 
> **SUGGESTED RE-READING:** The queen married the tulip-farmer in ["Dragon, Dragonfly."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056346)
> 
> ✨ [[see the full SecStar timeline](https://secondstarfall.com/index.php/Official_Timeline) | [check out the SecStar wiki](https://secondstarfall.com/)] ✨

The tulip-farmer—now a consort of the queen—pulled a piece of paper from between his teeth. (He had just bitten into a raspberry tart at a banquet, so this occurrence was not expected, to say the least.)

The paper said:

_MY LORD. PLEASE SEE ME. - COOK_

***

In the kitchens, the cook asked the tulip-farmer, "How do you do it?"

"Madame?"

"You don't have to call me that. In fact, don't. Please. Sir, please, if you must," said the cook, his fists balled, his shoulders tense. "I'm not afraid of doing it. I'm just—very old, you see." 

"Ah. Well. Her Majesty would not let anyone say a horrid word about you," the tulip-farmer replied. "Nor would I, or the royal dragon."

"I grew up in this country, too, my Lord. I—" As if suddenly aware of their difference in power, the cook dropped to his knees on the dusty floor. "Here I am, treating you like a counselor."

"What else does a consort do, other than make heirs and love the queen? I want to be useful."

"This is so silly, to be worrying about such things at my age. But—it isn't about gossip. I'm fifty-two years old!" 

"Then, sir?"

"My Lord, would I be handsome?" asked the cook, pressing his palms to his eyes. "My father the knight was so fair to look upon he—well, I was not the first of the children he produced without the aid of his wife."

The pair chuckled together. Knights. 

After a time, the cook continued, "My staff will follow orders as always. This I know. But I—I don't want to look like an old woman who's gone mad. I just didn't realize until these last few months...how do you turn over at fifty-two, my Lord?"

"With help." 

"I know there are tomes upon tomes in the royal library, from those who came before me, but, ah—they would be foreign to me. I had my son write the note to you..."

"I can assign someone to teach you to read. Or make the dragon do it—I'm tired of his fat scaly arse laying in my tulips. In the meantime—" 

"My Lord?"

"I will help you. My first tip—if I may be so brash..."

"My Lord, please."

"I mean no harm by it, no impropriety—but do not use bandages to flatten yourself. I can hear your breathing—I would rather you not hurt yourself as you're running about the kitchens." 

The tulip-farmer held out both of his hands, and the cook got to his feet. Warmth bloomed between them—warmth, and an unseen bond of iron.

"Incidentally: did you _need_ to put paper in the tart?" asked the tulip-farmer.

"That's how my father picked up his girlfriends."

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment or a kudos or whatever the heck if this tickled your fancy. There shall be more! ❤️
> 
> ✨ [[see the full SecStar timeline](https://secondstarfall.com/index.php/Official_Timeline) | [check out the SecStar wiki](https://secondstarfall.com/)] ✨
> 
>  **AUTHOR'S COMMENTARY:** This is another story I can't quite remember conceptualizing. I really want the cook to come back, as he's got beef with the botanist (see ["The Botanist's Most Important Failure"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21990349)). That story's in the queue somewhere, as are more stories about the cook...I just have to get there.
> 
> Also, I'd like to thank my sensitivity readers, as always. I am trans myself, but as a trans enbee, my issues tend to be a little different...so I appreciate folks who look over my stuff and ensure it's mostly not triggering.


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